


Escape Route

by druantialeaf



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Apocalypse, Civil War, F/M, Obsession, Obsessive Kylo Ren, Pandemics, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/druantialeaf/pseuds/druantialeaf
Summary: When the pandemic and civil unrest has wiped out American civilization as we know it, Rey and Poe are hiding out in their house, when former contractor Kylo breaks in to "rescue" Rey.  What will happen next?
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 21
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my little anxiety fever dream based on current events and also my reading "The Stand" by Stephen King (not based on that at all, just kind of an inspiration). Obviously it's based on what's happening with the news, and a "worst case scenario" of all that. I am going to tag appropriate warnings when I think they apply. Please let me know if you like!

The night air was quiet, still. Rey and Poe were making dinner in the kitchen. They’d turned off all the lights, and were moving by candlelight and the fading rays of the sunset. The radio was on in the background, bearing news of the unrest in the streets. It was scary- the city had fallen, and the looters were starting to move into the suburbs and beyond, even some rural areas.

They’d considered abandoning their home, going somewhere else. But where was there to go? The unrest that had consumed the country for the past several months had finally boiled over. The cities had been lost, the military and police overturned, and it was anarchy.

Luckily- or maybe unluckily, they would see- Poe had been successful. They had a large track of land, with a large, expensive home on top. Poe had always been inordinately proud of their house, since he’d worked his way up from the middle class. He’d worked hard in school, and used his brains and charisma to excel in law school and afterwards, landing a job at a major firm, and becoming a partner at the age of 28. The house was the trophy he displayed for everyone to see. A concrete display of his hard work and talent.

And Rey had been the happy housewife. She’d been working as a barista at the coffee shop across the street when Poe had begun working at the firm, and flirting over coffee had turned into a date, and then a relationship, and finally all of this. Rey hadn’t ever been particularly good at anything- she wasn’t smart like Poe. She was more artistic, content to be drifting along in her dreamworld. She’d been in art school when she met Poe, and his job meant she could stay at home, spending her days painting and listening to music. Her art didn’t really sell all that well, and Rey knew Poe didn’t particularly understand or appreciate it. He tried to be supportive, but she could tell he thought it was dumb. But he liked having her there, waiting for him when he came back, accompanying him to his events. She knew she made him look good- more glamorous, more creative, more compelling. She knew she looked attractive and turned heads, when she put on her black pumps and a dress, brushed on some mascara and some lipstick.

And so that had been their life. Until the pandemic, and then the riots. It all seemed like a million years ago now. They kept thinking that it would stop, that everything would return to normal. That eventually law and order would prevail and they would be back to their routine. But it didn’t, and they weren’t. 

No, they were a thousand miles away from law and order now. It started with the toppling of local governments- parts of cities were taken over by protestors. Then those territories had grown, getting larger and larger. Police departments were shut down, and remaining officers started to quit like flies, not wanting to be the only ones left facing the public. And then eventually it had spread to a national level, with the White House being burned down and the government effectively overthrown.

Back when everything had first started, she and Poe had stocked up on the essentials. Lots of canned soup, boxes of pasta, pallets of toilet paper. But as the months had worn on, it had become harder and harder to get those goods, until the stores were completely out, and the streets were no longer safe for travel.

The situation had been bad, but it had rapidly deteriorated over the past few days, when the White House finally fell. Now they fully understood how vulnerable they were, but there was nothing to be done. They had talked at length, in their many days being pent up inside the house together, about what the best route was to take. Should they pack up their things and try to move somewhere more remote? But they already were remote, it was just that a large house tended to make people a target. Then again, they’d had extensive renovations and modernization done a few years ago, and it was as secure and high tech as it could get. They’d assumed this was the safest place to be, and then, as of a few days before, the roads had become essentially impassible, and their other options had all ended. Not they been that great anyway- finding some airbnb in some remote forest, or something. Nothing was safe anymore, and the guarantees that had existed before were all gone.

So they’d decided the best thing to do was to hunker down. Poe didn’t believe in owning guns, but they had other things they could use as weapons. Rey had two small canisters of pepper spray, small enough to attach to her key ring. She used it when she was running. And then they had knives, and a baseball bat. Poe was lean, in good shape. He wasn’t the most muscular, or the tallest, but he was strong enough. They had the locked gates, which would give them fair warning if anyone tried to break into them. And they were hoping that people would simply pass by without looking too closely- their house was set back from the road, and if they turned all the lights off, they might not be noticed.

So now, the sun was setting, the last dwindling rays cutting through the kitchen windows. It was a risk, leaving the curtains open, after they’d already lit the candles. But it was so hard to see by candlelight alone- you practically needed to hold the candles directly against whatever it was you were cutting or doing. So they left the curtains open, the dim evening light giving them just enough light to see, although it was already almost dark outside. 

Rey had been able to harvest some kale from their backyard garden. She’d never gardened before, but they’d planted it when the food shortages had started at the beginning of the pandemic. This was another salad, and they’d run out of olive oil, and had to turn to vegetable oil, which wasn’t nearly as appetizing. They had carrots and tomatoes from the garden, as well, and, besides the vegetable oil, it might have seemed any regular summer salad. The tomatoes were especially good, and Rey had salted them to bring out the flavor, and dressed the whole thing with red wine vinegar. It smelled good, and they were splitting a can of pea soup on the side. 

So it was while Rey was cutting the carrots, squinting her eyes to make them out in the dimming light, that she’d heard the noise behind her. Poe was next to her, pouring the soup into bowls, so it could have been him, but something about the little sound, just a small creak in the floor, made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She turned, looking over her shoulder, and immediately gasped. She dropped the knife she’d been cutting with, smothering her scream with her free hand.

Poe turned around instantly, and when he did he shouted.

They both were disoriented for several seconds, before Poe seemed to remember himself and grabbed the baseball bat, which he’d luckily placed down at the end of the counter, leaning against the side. So it was within arm’s reach.

Rey picked her knife again, her hand shaking. But she didn’t want to stab the man standing in front of her.

“Kylo?” she asked, almost disbelieving.

But there was no mistaking the huge man in front of them. He had a gun, but it was tucked into his jeans. He was looking at Rey, not at Poe, and holding his hands up in the air, as if to prove that they held no weapons.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, looking at her. 

But it was no use, Rey’s heart was already pounding. She held the knife out in front of her, her shaking hands causing it to bob up and down.

“Get out of here!” Poe shouted. This was the first time Kylo looked at Poe, and his eyes turned cold when they landed on him.

Poe swung the baseball bat towards Kylo, and Kylo dipped his head back slightly, even though Poe was still several feet away. 

“I said leave!” Poe shouted. “Now!”

Poe swung the baseball bat wildly, back and forth, and it made a whizzing noise each time it cut through the air.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone,” Kylo said. His voice was low and calm, almost reassuring. 

“Get out!” Poe shouted.

Kylo held a hand out, in the “stop” gesture. “If you’d just listen-”

Poe suddenly charged towards Kylo, swinging the bat with all his strength.

But it was a bad choice. Kylo seemed to reach for his gun for a moment, before Poe was too close and there was no time left. Then he moved his hand to catch the bat as it swung in mid air, snatching it out of Poe’s grip and tossing it across the room, so it clattered loudly off the wall, surely denting it, and then clanged onto the kitchen table.

Rey looked on in horror, her grip on the knife becoming looser as the anxiety rose within her, her heart hammering at a thousand beats per minute. She had no idea what to do, and it was insane, the way Kylo had just caught the bat and then ripped it away, like he was a bear, or some wild animal. Poe suddenly looked small and shrimpy, almost childlike, next to Kylo, who towered over him, his muscles visible through his white t-shirt, delineated by the candlelight.

Poe stood, in shock, a few feet away from Kylo, panting loudly. 

“Rey, get the pepper spray,” Poe shouted, turning his head slightly to do it.

“It’s in the other room,” Rey said, her voice coming out panicky and shrill.

“Leave her out of it,” Kylo said.

The two men stared at each other, and Poe seemed, for the first time, to full realize his circumstance, staring up at the much larger man across from him, the room silent except for Poe’s heavy breaths.

Rey considered running at Kylo with the knife, but the truth was, if he could rip a baseball out of a man’s hands, then removing the knife from a woman’s would be even easier, and Rey was terrified of it being turned on her. Truly, this was the worst nightmare. 

“I came to warn you,” Kylo said, looking between both of them. “Guys from town are headed over here next, they plan to ram through the gate, and are going to ransack it, looking for money.”

Rey’s widened, then narrowed with suspicion. Was he really coming to help? Not to harm? Her heart continued to hammer, and she still held the knife with both hands in front of her, pointed at Kylo.

Kylo had now stopped looking at Poe entirely, focusing all his attention on Rey. “I can help you, okay? If you’ll let me, I can get you out of here.” He said it carefully, his eyes widening on certain words for emphasis, almost like he was talking to a scared animal or child. 

Rey’s eyes darted to Poe, wondering what they should do, what he was thinking. Poe always made the decisions in their family, but now he was simply glaring at Kylo, his eyes scrunched together in rage, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

She looked back to Kylo, who didn’t seem to be paying any attention at all to Poe. He was watching Rey, and she wondered if Poe might be able to grab something and hit him over the head, or tackle him. Anything, since he seemed to be preoccupied with her at the moment.

“I have transportation, and I can get you out of here, to safety. They’re gonna start heading over soon, and we have to move fast-”

His words were cut off by Poe leaping on top of him, one arm swinging around his neck, holding himself up by it, the other sending a wild punch in the direction of Kylo’s face. Kylo kind of twisted around, deflecting the hit with his shoulder. And then it was like Poe was hanging off Kylo, his legs dangling and kicking out, with Kylo twisting his body to try to throw him off. And then Poe landed on the ground, and immediately Kylo had him by the collar, and then his hand was pulling back and smacking straight into Poe’s face. And there was a horrible crunching sound, and then blood began to gush from Poe’s nose, and he placed both hands up to try to stem the blood.

Rey removed one hand from the knife, and reached it up to cover her mouth, which was open in a silent gasp. She was staring at Poe, who was now pulling his shirt up, stuffing it into his nose. It was a pitiful sight, and every fear mechanism Rey had went off. He’d gotten Poe, and Poe was supposed to protect her.

Kylo was glaring down at Poe, his eyes narrowed in anger, almost like he was waiting for Poe to come back and try to attack him again. But then he turned to look at Rey, the tension on his face immediately smoothing out. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said again. But it rang hollow, looking at him standing over Poe’s hunched form, his shirt growing red with blood.

He stretched his palms out to her again, in a kind of placating gesture. “Look, I’m trying to help, Rey,” he said.

Poe’s eyes widened and he looked back at Rey. He suddenly looked angry. “How does he know your name?” He had to spit the words out, little flecks of blood spraying everywhere when he spoke. Rey wasn’t sure whether she saw a tooth go flying out or not. The blood had trickled into his mouth, filling the gaps between his teeth, and Rey didn’t think she’d ever seen Poe, who was usually so dashing and put together, look so horrific and defeated.

“I-” Her eyes darted back to Kylo, who was staring at her, like he was waiting for her to speak. Her mind was going blank, and she suddenly felt like she was somehow guilty, like she was being implicated for the break in.

After a moment it came to her. “He worked for us,” she said, blurting the words out, relieved that they had finally entered her mind. “With the contractor.”

It was the truth, but Poe was now glaring at her, his eyes darting back to Kylo. 

“I don’t know him,” Rey said. Her words were coming out in a panic. “Not like that!”

“We know each other,” Kylo said, his voice low, soft. 

Rey shook her head, staring nervously at Poe. She didn’t know why she was more worried about Poe’s opinion of her than of the man who had broken her home and given her husband a broken nose, but she was. She desperately didn’t want him to think that- whatever happened tonight- she’d somehow been involved.

“Not well,” she said. “We’ve talked, but I don’t know him.”

Again, Poe’s eyes darted back and forth between them, still holding the bunched up end of his t-shirt up to his nose. It was now soaked a deep, almost brown crimson. 

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Kylo said. “Will you come with me?”

Rey looked back at Kylo, and saw that he’d outstretched a hand to her. He looked almost… nervous. Which was preposterous, considering he was the giant, the monster who had broken into their home.

“Don’t come any closer!” Rey shouted. She’d hoped her voice would be intimidating but it came out shaky, her hands trembling as she held the knife out towards him.

“She’s not going anywhere with you, asshole!” Poe shouted. 

Rey almost felt a pang of embarrassment for him. He was standing there, the lower part of his shirt soaked in blood, and couldn’t have looked less frightening if he tried.

Something twitched in Kylo’s jaw, and he turned back to Poe. “I’ll give you two options,” he said. “You can either let me take her away, somewhere safe, or I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

Poe eyes narrowed in rage, and Rey didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so angry, or so humiliated. Not when he’d been passed over for partner, not when he’d lost a major case because the client said Poe was “unprofessional”, not when she’d accidentally stood him up for a very nice date and he’d sat at the table alone for an hour before she finally picked up her phone.

“If you let me go, I’ll keep her safe, bring her to a safe place, and I won’t have to hit you again. Or we can do it the hard way. Your choice.”

Poe’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, and Rey could see the suspicion in his eyes again. “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter why,” Kylo responded. “Decide, now.”

Poe looked like he might be about to cry, staring over at Rey like he was expecting her to say something. But Rey didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to think. She was still deep in shock, and it was clear that they were essentially out of options. Saying something could get Poe hurt- or her hurt. She had no idea what Kylo was capable of.

“Poe, I can stay with you-”

Rey heard her voice as if it came from a third person. It sounded distant, far away, and she barely knew what she was saying, it just came out.

But before she could finish, Kylo took a step towards Poe, and it was a menacing one. He was just so big, his footfalls so huge.

“Okay, okay,” Poe said. He held one hand, as if to placate Kylo. “Fine, go, I guess.”

Rey’s mouth fell open, in shock and outrage. He was letting her go? Just like that? She didn’t want him to be seriously hurt over her but… to not even try?

Poe was now looking down at the ground, avoiding her eye contact. 

“Poe!” she said. It came out in a scolding tone, and Rey realized she wanted him to look at her, to acknowledge what he’d said. To look her in the eye when he told Kylo he could take her.

“Rey, we have to go,” Kylo said. He took a step towards her, and Rey looked back at him, straightening her arms in front of her, pointing the knife towards him.

“Don’t!” she screamed.

“Rey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said. “I never would.”

Rey narrowed her eyes, trying to stem the tears that were forming at the corners. “Why are you doing this?”

“Rey, there’s not time,” Kylo said. He took a step closer to her, and the knife shook in her hands. 

“Don’t come any closer!” 

“Rey, if you stay here, you’re not safe,” Kylo said. For the first time that night, she looked into his eyes. Really looked. Not just at his body, and the frightful strength within it, or his towering height, or the way he had silently and illegally appeared in their home. But his eyes.

And in them she saw softness, kindness. Not the eyes of a crazy man, or a killer. 

And Rey thought she must have been going crazy, but she had the sudden thought in her head, “He’s not going to hurt me.”

“Come on,” he said. His voice was low, coaxing. 

Rey looked back at Poe, who still had his tshirt balled up, staunching the flow of the blood. His face was smeared with streaks of red, and his whole shirt was dripping with it. He was staring at Kylo, his eyes glaring with rage, and also looking baffled, like he couldnt figure him out.

It was clear that Poe wasn’t going to be much help, if they were attacked. And she felt a spark of anger that he had just told Kylo that he could take her. Kylo had threatened to beat him up, but still… what kind of man…

“We need to leave,” Kylo said. He said it, again, like a teacher trying to coax a worried kid. Calmly, emphasizing each word.

And Rey looked back at him, to his hand, which was still outstretched to her, and she realized he hadn’t stepped any closer, even though he could have probably easily knocked the knife from her hands. He was letting her decide.

At that realization, Rey felt all the strength leave her body. Her limbs kind of sagged, and for a moment Rey wondered if she might faint. She lowered her arms, the knife slipping from her fingers and letting out a metallic “pang” as it landed on the ground. 

Kylo seemed to sense that she’d lost the ability to fully stand, and he stepped over, clasping her by the shoulders. “Can you walk?” he asked.

Rey nodded, and she shook her shoulders slightly, shaking off his grip. 

“Okay, follow me.”

He reached down, taking her hand, and pulling her after him through the room.

Rey threw one last glance at Poe, and he looked angry and defeated. He met her eyes for a moment, before looking down and away, and Rey supposed he was embarrassed.

He should be, she thought. He had done nothing.

They burst through the front door, and then Kylo was leading her over to the gates, which had been opened. He shut it behind him, closing it firmly so that the lock clicked into place. And then, in the dim moonlight, Rey saw the outline of a motorcycle. 

She felt something lowering onto her head, and she jolted and let out a tiny scream. “It’s just a helmet,” Kylo said. 

“Oh.” It was all Rey could say, and in the next moment he was lowering it again, fitting it into place, and then his fingers came up to tighten the strap.

Rey grimaced as she felt the backs of his fingers come into contact with her skin, while he fiddled with the strap.

But then it was done, and he was climbing onto the bike, holding the handlebars. “Get on,” he said, shaking his head to indicate that she should sit behind him.

And Rey didn’t know if she’d lost her mind, but she did get on, setting herself behind him. 

“Hold on,” Kylo said.

Tentatively, she placed her hands on his hips, and Kylo reached down, pulling her arms more fully around him, until her entire front was pressed against his back.

And then Kylo turned his headlight on, and they were off, speeding into the night, the air whipping at her face.


	2. Chapter 2

When Poe and Rey had first gotten married, Rey hadn’t known what to do with herself. She suddenly had all day to herself, never having to think about money. Which, as a young artist putting herself through art school, had never been the case before. 

She and Poe hadn’t lived together before they married, because Poe had very traditional Catholic parents. His mother was Guatemalan and still had a very strict view of what should happen between man and woman. So, even though Rey would have been happy to have moved in, and her parents wouldn’t have minded either way, they still kept their separate apartments, even though their stuff got all mixed up, Rey sometimes turning her room over for a particular shirt or dress before realizing she’d left it at Poe’s place. 

It seemed kind of funny to her, because Rey was surrounded by bohemian types that had various relationship situations. She knew a few kids in their sophomore year who were part of a “throuple”, meaning there were three of them in a relationship. That didn’t really make sense to Rey, but the world she lived in seemed so different from traditional, man-proposes-on-bended-knee, “no sex before marriage”, types. 

But that was kind of what she liked about Poe. Besides his winning smile and good looks… he was traditional in a way she wasn’t. His mom wasn’t the only example of that, with the way she got all dressed up for Sunday church and would serve them a big Guatemalan meal afterwards. Poe, himself, was traditional. He’d gone to a good school, he’d worked hard in law school, he had a 9-to-5 job where he wore a suit and tie and got coffee promptly at 7:50am every morning. 

Meanwhile, Rey’s world was, and always had been, filled with chaos. She’d had parents who were loving, but distant. She’d done okay in school, but always felt like her head was in the clouds. Occasionally she’d gotten in trouble for doodling during class, or just letting her thoughts drift away during lessons. She would get a glazed over look in her eyes and her teachers knew that, mentally, she was far away from math class. In that sense school had been hard, even though she’d been bright enough to understand everything- but she always felt like a square peg trying to fit herself into a round hole.

She’d gotten into advanced art classes early on, and that had been her refuge. As a teen it had turned into hanging out with the art kids- smoking weed with them in the woods outside their class before it started. Their teachers pretty much knew about it and didn’t care, because most of the art teachers were current or former stoners themselves. Hanging out with them by the 7-11 on the weekends, trying to convince some adult to buy them a handle of cheap vodka. 

In the end, she hadn’t really done anything too crazy. She’d been fairly prudish till she got her first boyfriend at 17, and had all her big “firsts” with him. They’d dated until halfway through her freshman year, and then when they’d broken up she’d dated a couple different art guys. They were all kind of noncommittal, annoyingly wrapped up their art, trying to impress or prove how much better they were at it than her, how many more obscure 19th century Spanish artists they knew. 

She had just ended one of those relationships when Poe started coming in to the coffee shop. She’d signed up for the early shifts, trying to switch herself out of her lifestyle with her former boyfriend, which was practically nocturnal, and involved a lot of late night loft parties with art dealers who would offer you blow and make sleazy offers to “paint you in the nude” and give you $400 if you posed for them.

She was trying to start a new leaf, away from that whole art party scene. Which was why she’d signed up for early afternoon classes, making sure to avoid any her exboyfriend had mentioned wanting to take, and applied for the job at the coffee shop, offering to take the earliest shift they had. Which meant she had to be in at the God-awful hour of 5am, and she had to be up at 4:30, rolling out of bed and stumbling into the bathroom, barely able to function so early.

But then Poe had walked in, and it had all changed. She’d wondered since if it had been love at first sight. She didn’t think she would call it that- it hadn’t been overwhelming. But she’d just had a feeling about him, a sense of familiarity. Kind of like when she’d gone around trying on prom dresses, and finally, at the last store, she’d pulled on this lime-green dress and she’d just known. She’d known it was it, and then she’d turned around to see herself, and, sure enough, it was.

But she hadn’t known they’d get married, she’d just had that same feeling. And it was easy with him- from the beginning, she’d never had any sense of nerves, like you usually did around a hot guy. Poe had this beautiful, super white smile- pretty, dark eyes with thick lashes, and a strong jaw that looked like it came off some 1950s movie star. And he had the most amazing hair, that somehow arranged itself into this little curl over the top of his forehead. Now, having woken up next to him for several years, she knew that he actually arranged that curl deliberately, sometimes using hair gel if it wasn’t cooperating. But back then she’d thought it was magic, just more evidence that he was kind of perfect.

The best thing about Poe was that he was charming- he could make babies smile and old ladies laugh. Everyone seemed to feel comfortable with him, which Rey appreciated. If she was the girl who’d always gotten under the teachers’ skin, he would have been the kid in the front of the class that the teachers loved- but also that the other kids loved, too. The “golden guy” who managed to be friends with everyone, while also following the rules and getting good grades. Student body president type of guy.

And, in that stage of her life, Rey had loved that. It was such a far cry from the flaky men she was used to being around, so wrapped up in themselves, capable of droning on for hours about the “emotion” they were trying to draw out of one of their sculptures, without noticing that everyone else was totally bored.

No, Poe was engaged, friendly, inquisitive. He’d make little jokes to her- genuinely funny jokes, that actually made her laugh, even though it was 7:50 in the morning and she still had three hours left on her shift, and then classes after that. And he’d give her that movie star smile of his, and come in looking so cute in his suit and ties. So professional, and masculine.

Poe was four years older than Rey, but he never made a show of it. He had just finished law school, and was starting as an associate at the law firm across the street. Something about his suit had made Rey assume he was much older, and she didn’t like older men or date them. But Poe must have sensed this, and he’d found ways to mention that he’d just started, and his age, and Rey had been glad to hear it, because he really was attractive.

Every time Poe would come in, he’d banter and joke with her, to the point where her co-workers started teasing her about it. And then, on an especially quiet day, with hardly any customers around, Poe had looked really nervous, and he’d asked her if he could take her out to dinner.

And she’d agreed, cause frankly she’d been waiting for him to ask. So they went out, to a really nice, really expensive Italian place, that was much better than the cheap ramen places Rey usually had to go to. And they’d shared a bottle of wine, and then two bottles, and talked all night.

And it felt like they were a couple right away, from the very start. Of course, Poe had waited several dates before actually asking Rey if she wanted to date exclusively, and of course she’d said yes. And they didn’t have sex until after they were exclusive. So it felt very… again, traditional, which Rey liked and preferred.

But still, even before those milestones, they just felt like a couple. Kind of like a puzzle piece that had finally been clicked into place. Like they’d been dating for years now and finally got around to legitimizing everything.

Rey could remember that she’d offhandedly mentioned to Poe how much she hated the combination of chocolate and orange on their first date, and couldn’t understand the popularity of those Terrys chocolate orange things. And then on the third date, the waiter was presenting them with the dessert menu and had mentioned that their Chocolate Cake à l'Orange was especially delicious. And Poe had instantly told him, “No way, Rey hates those.” 

And something about that moment- and granted, she’d been on her 3rd glass of Pinot Noir at that point- but something about it really struck her. And she still remembered how Poe looked, staring down at the menu, the beautiful planes of his face illuminated by the little candles that were at all the tables. And she remembered the slightly miffed expression of the waiter as he’d nodded and headed off to check on other tables. And she remembered thinking that she couldn’t believed he’d listened so closely, how it had just rolled off his tongue, like it was second-nature, like they did this all the time and he knew her in and out.

And then Poe had looked up, and caught her staring at him, and she’d looked back down at the menu, and kind of smirked, because she was so happy, in that moment, and again- it was just that feeling- puzzle being placed down, exactly where it belonged. The satisfaction of feeling like, this is it. This is where it should be.

And then Poe had looked pleased too, grinning up at her, and they ended up deciding to split the chocolate pots de crème, and it was the best dessert Rey had had in a long, long time.

And it was two dates after that that Poe had asked her to be exclusive, and she’d agreed. And then that was history.

After Poe had asked her to be exclusive, he’d asked her if she wanted to come back to his place for a night cap, and she’d nodded shyly, knowing what it meant.

And then Poe had mixed her up a martini, because apparently he was trying to learn more cocktail recipes. And she’d barely had half the drink before Poe was kissing her on his nice leather couch, in his nice, clean apartment, and then they were both drunkenly stumbling over to his bedroom, peeling each others’ clothes off, falling on the bed, both of them laughing when Poe’s pants got stuck around his ankles.

And then they’d made love. And it wasn’t the best sex Rey had ever had. Unfortunately, that honor went to one of the previous art guys, who was very good in bed, and could eat her out for a long time, but was also extremely erratic outside of the bedroom and was pretty much addicted to weed- he was never not high as a kite. 

With Poe it was different. They could laugh together in bed, just lay next to each other, with Poe caressing her hair gently while they watched whatever sitcom was on. Poe loved sitcoms, that was another great thing about him. He was usually in a good mood, and ready to laugh, and he preferred the funny stuff to anything too dark. Which was kind of a relief, since Rey was used to being with guys who wanted to talk about the existential themes of Rothko.

There was a level of intimacy between them from the start, where Rey felt like she could let her hair down, and relax. She didn’t have to pretend to be the “cool art girl”, hanging out with her boyfriends and pretending like she’d heard of the upcoming graffiti artist from Tokyo that they wanted to discuss with the gallery owners at the loft parties. She didn’t have to pretend to be disgusted by LiveLaughLove furnishings when they’d shop at Target, or act like the only films she watched were French New Wave. Being with Poe was the opposite- his favorite show was Friends, and he was happy to watch whatever Will Farrell movie was out in movie theaters.

And the funny thing was, Poe was probably smarter than all her exes. He just didn’t really brag about it- at least, he didn’t that often. Sometimes, after their relationship had progressed, and they had had a few serious arguments, Rey noticed that Poe would make mocking comments about “what she did for a living”, or how she wouldn’t understand the real world. Small little digs about how what she did wasn’t legitimate. And, in a way, he was right. She made no real money from her art. She sold a few pieces, here or there, but it cost more to buy supplies than she made from the few paintings she sold.

But then, Poe had been the one who had encouraged her to stay home, to focus on making her art during the day, since he was making more than enough to support both of them. And she’d gladly agreed, because she’d hated every job she’d worked at anyway. It was like being back in school. Rey realized that, now that she was an adult, her bosses weren’t any happier than her teachers when she would get that glazed over, staring-out-into-space look.

In fact, he’d started giving her money for her monthly expenses a few months into their relationship. Rey had mentioned this creepy guy that had started coming in towards the end of her shifts, right around 10:30. And Poe had told her that she should quit, and he would give her some money to make up for it. And they’d gone back and forth about it, but ultimately, she’d agreed. And she’d been glad to leave, because working at the coffee shop sucked, and it was hard to have a relationship when you were waking up at 4:30 am anyway- there were lots of times Rey had to take long naps in the middle of the afternoon.

So that had started it, and once they got engaged, Poe had given her more money. And he’d covered everything for the wedding, even though that was traditionally the bride’s role. But their wedding was traditional in every way but that. They’d gotten married in a Catholic ceremony, even though Rey was Protestant. But Poe’s mother had insisted, and Rey was fine with it, since it was just another form of Christianity. The ceremony had been in a lovely Catholic cathedral, and they’d come outside to take photos on the church steps, with all their friends throwing rice at them.

It was mostly Poe’s friends who went to the ceremony and the reception afterwards, at a beautiful, fancy hotel nearby. Poe was just so good with people, and Rey had met many of her friends through the men she’d dated, and thus lost them as soon as they’d broken up. But it was okay, because Poe was the most popular guy she’d ever been with, making friends wherever he went, so that they still weren’t able to invite everyone they wanted to, just because Poe knew everyone. He had lots of friends from high school, college, work, every extra curricular activity. Even a pen pal he’d had from Italy had flown in for the reception, since they’d written each other since a high school project, and the pen pal said he’d wanted to come see America anyway.

It was crazy, and of all the people, Poe had picked her. Rey still kind of couldn’t believe it. Even though she knew she was beautiful, and she had her own glamour to bring to the table. But Poe was just the star of the show, always, and he had so many options- lots of girls that wanted to be with him. And he’d taken her, with all her student loan debt, and her unemployment, and her staring off into space half the time.

After that, she’d moved into Poe’s apartment, and then they’d started looking for places outside the city. Shortly after they married, Poe was promoted to partner. Which, although it was kind of crazy for him to be promoted so young, neither of them were surprised. Poe worked at a relatively small firm, and he was amazing at his job, bringing them a ton of business. Everyone knew that they either had to promote him, or Poe would jump ship, perhaps open his own firm. Still, it was a big deal, and with the money Poe had brought to the place, it meant he was bringing home a big salary.

They’d started looking for houses- nice places, outside the city. And Poe’s promotion meant they had a lot more options. And Poe wanted something big, something to impress his colleagues and his large social network. Many of Poe’s good friends from college and high school were equally as successful as he was, and he wanted to have something to show off to them, to host dinner parties and invite people to spend the weekend in their guest room.

So Poe left the searching to Rey, and since she didn’t really have anything to do all day except paint and go to yoga class, she’d looked for houses all over town. Finally she found one, a little further out than she would have liked, but really spacious, old and kind of grand looking. She’d just had a feeling that Poe would like it. When she’d showed it to Poe that night, along with some other options, he’d insisted they drive out that weekend to see it. And just like when they’d met, that had been that. It had that same feeling- puzzle piece being put into place.

They’d made an offer that a few days after visiting, for about $50k under asking. After some negotiations on both sides, they’d closed, and Poe and Rey were happy homeowners. The place was already vacant, and once they’d gotten the keys, they’d driven over and popped a bottle of Veuve Cliquot in the empty living room, looking out through the bay windows, onto the beautiful land that surrounded them. And then they’d made love on the kitchen counter, laughing at the coldness of the granite.

It all felt like a dream. The place was older, a grand house from a bygone, fancier era. And that was exactly what Poe loved about it, Rey realized. It was genteel and orderly and slightly pretentious, like him. Perfect, like him. 

They’d moved in shortly after, and it was like a dream, having this whole beautiful place to themselves. It felt, to Rey at least, kind of like she was a kid playing house. She’d missed some things about living in downtown Jakku, like being able to walk to her yoga studio, and run to the local cafe to get a cup of coffee if she wanted it. But Poe had bought her a car, so now she could drive to do those things, though she hated driving. So she mostly made coffee at home, and would just watch Youtube yoga videos and do them in their living room. And she’d paint, and make a big meal at the end of every day, for Poe to come home to.

Those first few months were bliss. But, as the time went on, the limitations of the house became more apparent. Poe was frustrated that the garage door seemed to only work half the time, so he’d often have to park his car out in the driveway, and leaves and other detritus would sometimes fall down onto it. They both found the kitchen kind of dated, since had last been updated in the 90s, and was done in those honey-hues that were so popular back then. The bathroom was also extremely 90s, with it’s dated jacuzzi tub. 

Ultimately, they had both agreed that they should renovate it. Since Poe had made partner, he was making money hand over fist. He’d managed to grow the firm to be much more successful than it had been before, so he was making even more money than they’d first expected when he was promoted. And the firm was handing out bonuses to him as often as they could. They really didn’t have any other expenses, especially because Poe had to work very long hours, so long vacations were out of the question. Why not spend the money renovating the place?

Rey hadn’t been sure at first, because she liked to paint in silence, and she cherished her hours there, alone, staring out the window. Able to drift off to her dream world without being scolded or punished. They had a balcony off their bedroom, with an amazing view of the surrounding woods, and Rey loved to sit up there and paint for hours.

She still hadn’t sold that many paintings, and they mostly sold to friends. Rey was hoping that one day she would have a big gallery show, but she still didn’t feel ready for it. Poe was always telling her that she needed to start contacting the big galleries in Jakku, trying to make contacts there, offering to bring her pieces in to show them. But Rey hated doing stuff like that, hated being pushy. And with Poe making so much money, she would almost feel bad, taking away gallery space from young artists who were struggling.

So she mostly let her pieces pile up, showing them to Poe’s friends when they would come over. And they would always say how beautiful they were, and several asked to buy a piece. So she sold a few that way, but Rey knew it was done out of politeness, not actual interest. She thought most of Poe’s friends didn’t even understand her art, couldn’t understand it.

Poe and Rey kept a running list of all the things they wanted to have done. They didn’t have any kids yet, so Rey was going to get a walk in closet and her own art studio. She’d also have a yoga room, which she was already doing in the living room, but now she’d have a room with mirrors, so she could check her form in them, maybe burn incense or ding a crystal sound bowl when she came in.

They planned everything out, and hired a local contractor that one of Poe’s clients recommended. He said they’d done a good job doing some work on creating a home gym, and so Poe had called, and gotten a fairly low estimate, and booked the job.

The renovations had proved a major disruption to Rey’s routine and way of life. She was used to being able to sleep in, with Poe kissing her goodbye when he went to work, and then Rey would turn back over in bed and sleep till about ten a.m. Then she’d go down, make herself coffee, and slowly begin her day. She’d often do yoga to start, and then drift up to her balcony, setting up her paints and easel, waiting for the inspiration to hit. 

It wasn’t the most efficient routine in the world, but it was hers. And suddenly she felt terribly self conscious about slouching around the house wearing Poe’s old shirts, sometimes wearing his boxers too, or a pair of her yoga leggings. Now that there was a team of strange men in the house at all times, she couldn’t just do downward facing dog in the middle of the living room anymore. She started making a cup of coffee the night before, and placing it on her bedside table, so she wouldn't have to run into any strange men in the kitchen the next morning. She kept snacks in her room- little bags of trail mix, or nuts, apples and oranges. Things that didn’t need to be refrigerated, so she could munch of them instead of having to go downstairs.

She’d met the contractor, but none of the workers. And the contractor had seemed nice enough, but Rey still felt vulnerable there, with Poe away all day. He told her that she was being silly, but Poe was a guy, and he didn’t get what it was like to be a woman, and the greater physical vulnerability she had.

But, as the weeks dragged on, and the work continued, she started to resent it. It was her house, after all- her and her husband’s house. Why shouldn’t she be able to go downstairs and cook herself eggs if she wanted, or sit outside in her oversized t-shirt, painting?

So, one day, when she was particularly annoyed with the hammering and noise happening inside the house, and with the fact that she had painted in several weeks, feeling too disconnected from her routine, she’d angrily begun setting up her paint supplies outside, on the balcony where she usually sat.

First her easel, which she brought inside when she wasn’t using it so that it wouldn’t get blown over by the wind. Then her paintbox, then her palette. Then her mason glass of water and her brushes, and her palette knives. And a little rag for dabbing away any excess paint.

She liked to paint in old clothes, especially Poe’s old shirts. It was comforting, to be in something that was his, and it was also nice because painting could be quite messy, and she didn’t have to worry about getting stains on them. She’d thought about changing into something else, something more appropriate for the lady of the house to be sitting around in. Not that there was anything revealing- she was in leggings and one of Poe’s college t-shirts. She made the concession of throwing a bra on underneath it, but even that annoyed her. It was her house, and she should be able to go bra free, if she wanted- after all, it wasn’t the 1800s, and it was so much more comfortable going without. But still, since it was a big group of men that she didn’t want gawking at her nipples, she put one on, and then headed out.

She put on her Airpods, and tried to ignore the fact that there were several men, of various ages, milling about in the front yard. Poe wanted extensive landscaping work done as well, from leveling some parts of the yard, to adding a pool, and some intensive gardening work, such as stone walls. He also wanted a patio built, to the side of the pool and off the house, where they could have dinner parties.

They were all great ideas, but Rey hated that it meant that some days there would be people in the yard all day, and so she felt self conscious about sitting out on her balcony, painting the day away, while men sweated and grunted with heavy machinery. But she turned her music up fairly loud, on shuffle, and tried to tune them out.

She was trying to paint the woods, since it was spring and the trees were just beginning to flower. She’d been looking forward to this, to the first greenery sprouting up through the dead winter ground, and had planned exactly what she wanted to paint, and what she wanted to convey. She’d sketched it out already, but it was different to see it for herself- to see the way the light hit the leaves, the way a gust of wind could move them, to see the vivid pink hue of the flowers as they began to emerge.

It was difficult, but Rey forced herself to paint, and not to think of the men clustered down below, thinking God’s knows what. She knew she probably looked silly- she knew that a bunch of construction guys probably thought what she was doing was stupid. Even Poe, who was open minded and sweet, was sometimes dismissive of her need for art, her need to express herself. She probably looked crazy, or maybe like a spoiled wife wasting her husband’s time by pursuing a fruitless hobby. At times Rey had the same thoughts- when was she going to start making money of her own? Was she just a pampered housewife in denial?

But she pushed the thoughts of her head, reminding herself of what she’d come out to do. It was her house, her balcony, her lake, and she had every right to paint it.

She could see the men milling around down below, in her perpheral vision, but Rey forced herself not to look. She had her music turned up high, so she couldn’t hear their shouts or words, only the occasional noise from machinery.

Rey gradually found her mind drifting away from the men below, and locking on to her work. It wasn’t easy, and she found herself resisting the urge to look below, but she forced herself to focus, not to be distracted, and before long she was immersed in the task, focused on mixing the right shade of green for the leaves.

She painted for several hours, and it was almost like releasing a breath after swimming the length of a swimming pool. A palpable relief, to finally be able to release all the tension she’d stored up, that she usually poured into her work. 

By the time she finally released how hungry she’d gotten, it was 4pm, and she’d been painting for several hours. She stood up, stretching her arms overhead and shaking out her muscles, arching her back, which had been hunched over in painting position for the past several hours.

Now that she was finished, she couldn’t help but give in to her urge to glance down at the workers. All the self consciousness she’d been able to ignore before came flooding back, and she wondered how she’d looked, glued to the canvas and lost in her own world.

She glanced down at the group, which seemed to be digging and moving around dirt in an area 20 feet from the house. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and plucked her ear bud out so she could hear everything they were saying. Trying to be surreptitious, she scanned the group.

They all seemed to be absorbed in the work, faces red with exertion, hailing shovelfuls of dirt over their shoulders. Two guys were pushing wheelbarrows, loaded down with piles of red mud. Another guy was unloading stones from a pallet. And then there were two guys standing back, in conversation about something or another, and it looked kind of heated, from how one of the men was gesturing, his hands flying everywhere.

And that’s when Rey noticed that the other guy was standing stock still, and staring right at her. She was taken by surprise for a moment, a feeling of awkwardness flooding her. She’d thought she’d gone unnoticed, looking over the men, that they would have forgotten about her, and she felt suddenly self conscious. She glanced away, past him, at the woods behind the house, putting her hand over her eyes as if she was searching for something. She hoped, at the distance he was at, he wouldn’t be able to see where her eyes had been, and the whole ‘staring out into the woods’ thing would be plausible.

Rey waited several seconds, moving her head around, like she was scanning the horizon, before glancing back at the men. Usually when you made accidental eye contact with someone, they felt awkward too, and would look away just as quickly, and that was what Rey was hoping would happen. She’d been able to look at all the other men, analyze what they were doing, but she’d jolted when she’d seen the man looking back at her, and barely had a chance to see what those two were doing, and she felt curious.

But when she looked back, the man was still staring. She felt a pang of annoyance hit her- shouldn’t he be the one who was self conscious? After all, he was ‘the help’- he worked for her! She cursed how shy she could be in these situations, not standing up for herself. She could remember a million conversations she’d had with Poe where she’d complained about not being able to go downstairs to get food while the workers were there, and Poe had told her it was her house, and she had every right to go, and she was creating a problem out of nothing. He’d joked that if she ran into anyone in the kitchen she could order them to leave immediately, like she was a queen or something. And Rey knew that Poe could be much more assertive in those kinds of situations, and it made her angry at herself..

Those thoughts pulsed through her mind in milliseconds, and Rey bristled at her instinct to look away. She shouldn’t have to look away, she should. He worked for her.

So she forced herself to hold his gaze, waiting for him to glance away first. But he didn’t. He stared back at her, and Rey could see, though she was a good distance away from him, but she could make out that he was very tall, towering over the guy he was talking to, with pale skin and dark hair and features.

Something about his gaze was unnerving, or maybe it was just the uncomfortable staring game they were in, and Rey was only able to last for a few seconds before she admitted defeat, looking back down to her painting. She closed the lid of her toolbox and grabbed her palette and now filthy water glass. She brought it all inside, then came back to drag her easel in.

She looked back one time, at the men, and they were gone. Rey didn’t know if they were on break, or they’d moved on to do something else, or they were done for the day. But the pile of stones was still there, as were the two trucks, parked in the driveway. She hoped they were done, and that the next time she looked outside, the driveway would be clear. 

Then she turned on her music and stepped in the shower. It had been a productive day, and Rey felt good again, for the first time in several weeks. The painting was going to be really good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think so far or if it's too weird to continue!


	3. Chapter 3

As the weeks passed, Rey began to feel more comfortable in the house with the men around. She still kept mainly to her room, though she would venture down to the kitchen when she got hungry. Painting out on the balcony had been like ripping a band aid off- now she wasn’t so afraid to go out there, and if they stared- oh well.

Every time, she’d turn up her music, or a podcast, blotting them out, and she did her best not to glance down in their direction.

Sometimes Rey felt bad about it because she didn’t want the workers to think she was some kind of snob. But, her safety came first, and she just… didn’t want to engage with them. It was weird, having a group of strange men walking around her property, having access to all her stuff- and she didn’t even know any of them.

So she mainly kept to her room, venturing out to the balcony to paint, and down to the kitchen when she was hungry, and avoiding everywhere else.

They were working their way through the house, and it seemed to change daily. Rey had thought they would have some kind of predictable schedule- maybe work their way through one room at a time, finishing it, and then moving on to the next. 

But no- they would work on the dining room one day, and then back outside to work on the outdoor areas, and then the next day it would be the basement bathroom. 

So Rey never knew if they would be outside or not, when she was painting, and she tried to put it from her mind entirely, and focus on her work. She’d actually become more productive since they started working in the house, because it was almost like a challenge. She was determined not to be intimidated out of using her own balcony, out of doing her work. And all the other areas of the house were basically prohibited, so she was forced to either stay in her room or go out and paint. Whereas before they’d started working at the house, she might have drifted through the house, watching TV while she made breakfast and getting glued to a show, or doing her yoga outside and then meandering around the gardens, now she had no choice but to stay in her room or go paint. 

Rey was painting one day in July, and it was swelteringly hot. Up on her balcony, she’d get the occasional breeze, but even she was sweating. The workers were outside again, and she could only imagine how hot it was for them, doing manual labor under the sun. But she focused on her painting, blotting them out as she always did.

Around 1pm, she was feeling hungry, and frankly was stuck on the clouds she was trying to paint. Something about the way she was painting the light made it look unnatural, too heavy, fake, and she had painted it and then repainted it maybe 20 times. She simply couldn’t get it right. She finally put her brush down and headed inside, back into the coolness of the air conditioning.

She let her hair down as she plodded through the house- she’d put it up to try to get some air on the back of her neck- and walked down to the kitchen. She wanted something quick, as she always did when she was in the middle of a painting. So she pulled out the tub of greek yogurt, and a container of raspberries, and a bag of organic granola from the pantry.

She began to spoon the greek yogurt into the bowl, thinking the whole time about what exactly she was doing wrong. The clouds had a kind of orange light threading through them, and Rey wondered if the unusualness of the orange color was throwing things off. Perhaps she should remix the paint, try with a more golden color, with less red…

Her thoughts were interrupted by one of the workers coming into the room. Rey froze for a moment- she wasn’t used to interacting with them, and it always made her slightly nervous.

But she plastered a smile on her face. It was the tall man she’d seen the first day she’d been on the balcony. He had the dark hair and features, with the pale skin. And now that he was closer, Rey could make out his features better. He had dark eyes, full lips, a very strong, protruding nose. And visible muscles, which were extremely obvious in his wifebeater.

“Hey,” he said. 

“Hi,” Rey replied. From her tone, she knew he would be able to hear her confusion, the slight “What on earth are you doing here?” question that she was implying.

“I, uh, was hoping to get a glass of water,” he said. “It’s really hot.”

“Oh, of course!” Rey put down the container of raspberries that she was rinsing. 

She suddenly felt thoughtless and selfish. Here these men were, sweating in the heat, and she didn’t even think to ask if they wanted water or anything. But then again, they’d never asked her for it before. Rey wondered, from the way he’d just walked into the kitchen so authoritatively, if they came in here often. Maybe they helped themselves to water from their new fridge, which had a filtered water dispenser on the outside. 

The thought unsettled her- did they have access to the food? Would they ever tamper with it, or steal stuff? She’d been aware that, of course, they had access to the house, but seeing this man, here, in the kitchen, suddenly made it much more real.

“One sec,” she said, turning to wipe her hands on a kitchen towel. She reached up into the pantry, stretching a bit to reach the shelf where they kept the water glasses. Then she pressed the glass into the little dispenser in the door of the fridge, filling it up.

When she turned around to hand him it, he was much closer, just a few feet away. Rey actually jumped a little, spilling some of the water.

“Oh my God!” She was reacting more to her own clumsiness than to the actual guy. He’d surprised her, by getting closer, but Rey knew that was just in her head. She could just picture Poe, rolling his eyes, telling her that she really needed to calm down, that she was always overthinking everything. And maybe she did- she’d been so jumpy lately, for the past several months, actually. She just had a… bad feeling about everything.

“Sorry about that,” she said. “I’m just…” She shook her head, searching for the right word. “Jumpy.”

She walked over to the worker, handing him the glass, and smiled in a friendly way at him. He didn’t smile back, and his eyes didn’t leave her face. “Thanks,” he said.

She nodded and moved back to the counter, picking up the raspberries and pouring them in the bowl. She was moving faster now, because the earlier calm she’d felt, wrapped up in her own thoughts as she’d puzzled over her painting, was gone. 

She said nothing, hoping the guy would leave, or had left- silently, perhaps. Poe was always telling her that she overthought things too much, and that she needed to stop worrying and just put things out of her mind.

So she did that, and she focused entirely on the food. What other people do is not your concern, she reminded herself. A mantra from her favorite yoga teacher that Rey was still trying to implement.

She picked up the bag of granola and poured some into the bowl, scattering it around so that it distributed evenly.

“Can I have some?” 

She heard the guy say it, and Rey bristled. She’d wanted him to leave, but here he still was. She looked up at him, wondering if he was trying something. Wasn’t it rude for a worker to ask if he could have some food? 

But then Rey felt bad. She was acting like some spoiled bitch, afraid to let “the help” touch her things. She instantly felt guilty. When had she become this bougie, horrible person?

“Sure,” she said. 

She was going to walk over to him, but now the guy was moving over towards her. She turned around, facing him. But he didn’t stop several feet away, as Rey expected. He stood about a foot away from her, and Rey had to force herself not to step back, in the other direction. She could smell him- a mixture of cologne, and that heavy “man” scent. Rey supposed it was from working all morning in the heat, but it was so strong, so heady. A very thick smell, of sweat and hormones and just “dude.”

For a moment Rey felt like it was actually choking her, like she couldn’t breathe because of the strength of it. But then she told herself she was really losing it, freaking out over every little thing, as she’d done so much lately. She was so sensitive to all input lately, like smells and sounds. What was wrong with her?

“What is it?” he asked, breaking her out of her thoughts, out of her awareness of his smell and how close he was.

“It’s um… organic granola,” she said. “I think this flavor is...” She helped up the bag, checking the label. “Honey vanilla.”

The guy nodded.

“With real vanilla, not the fake stuff,” Rey said. She didn’t really know why she said it. A poor attempt at a joke, just something filler to chip away at the tension she felt.

He held his hand out to her, palm up, and it took Rey a moment to see what he meant, and then she poured a handful into it.

“You’ll have to tell me what you think,” Rey said. 

The guy looked her in the eyes, and then lifted his hand up to his mouth, depositing the granola in one fell swoop. His eyes didn’t leave hers, as he chewed, his now free hand coming down to rest next to her, on the counter.

Rey found herself, for some reason, unable to break his gaze. She wanted to, but something about her felt it would be highly rude, to look away. She had to wait, to see what he said. She didn’t know why, but she just felt like… like looking away would be the worst thing she could do, highly offensive to this man.

So she held his gaze, for the few seconds it took him to chew and swallow.

“It’s good,” he said.

Rey nodded, giving him a tight smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

Now she could look away, and she did, turning back to the counter. “Well, I’m just gonna go upstairs,” she said, grabbing at her bowl.

The bag of trail mix and the empty raspberry container were still on the counter, the plastic raspberry counter splayed open unattractively in the center of the island. She would never usually leave it looking like that- Poe hated a mess.

But she just wanted to get out of there, get back to the sanctuary of her room. Lately, everything made her nervous.

She took several steps, before wondering if she was being rude. She turned back, looking over her shoulder at the man. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr...” Rey trailed off awkwardly, and it was in that moment that she realized she didn’t know his name. She shouldn’t have tried to tack a name onto it, she chastised herself. Just “nice to meet you” would have been fine!

“Kylo”, the man said. “Kylo Ren.”

“Oh,” Rey nodded, gave a tight smile. She supposed she’d have to give her name too, even though she didn’t want to be overly familiar. But now she had to say it. “I’m Rey Dameron.”

Kylo nodded, his eyes staring into hers. Something about them were so dark, even darker than their brown color should be, Rey thought. It was strange, and she wondered how she would paint them. It might be an interesting challenge, like the clouds.

“I know,” he said.

Right. Of course he knew. He worked for her.

She smiled again. “Okay, well… bye!” 

She turned back around, heading to the hallway, and then to the stairs to her room. She locked the door behind her, and felt a palpable sense of relief when she sank down on the covers, her bowl of granola in front of her.

She hated dealing with the workers, as bad as she knew that was bad to say. It was just so strange, so uncomfortable for her. She hadn’t grown up with “help” and the power difference still felt really weird. And Rey had never been quite so jumpy as she was. She wondered if she was pregnant, or something. Maybe her hormones were causing her to be so… on edge.

But she was taking her birth control. Poe didn’t know about it, he thought she wasn’t. But Rey wasn’t ready to have a kid, not quite yet. 

Rey shook her head. It couldn’t be that. She was just… nervous all the time. Watching all the news, which seemed to be getting angrier and more divisive every day, couldn’t be helping either.

Rey decided to stop painting that day, because frankly she didn’t want to be around the workers any more, even if she didn’t have to talk to them. She switched on some marathon of the Real Housewives, and tried to relax. The workers would be gone before long, and then she wouldn't have to do this ever again. Then she’d have the perfect house, and she could paint whenever she wanted, and everything would be great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pleaseee let me know what you think or if youre digging it so far


	4. Chapter 4

That wasn’t the only interaction Rey had with Kylo over the next few months. She found herself resorting to storing food in her room again, because he would often come into the kitchen when she was grabbing a snack and ask for a glass of water.

He’d try to strike up a conversation, but Rey was polite but firm, giving one word answers. It was just easier to keep protein bars, fruit and trail mix up in her room, and not have to worry about running into him. Or any of the other workers.

Eventually they finished work on the rest of the house and it was time to do her room. Rey disliked it, but she had to find things to do, places to go, during the day, while they worked. She would hang out in other parts of the house, but she always felt on edge, wondering if a worker would barge in.

One time she’d been in her yoga room, which had a glass door, and she’d been doing the final stretch, a lizard pose, and had lost herself in it. She was thinking over, again, a painting she was working on, puzzling it over, as she often did during her yoga sessions. And when she’d opened her eyes to move into the next position, she realized Kylo had been standing there at the glass door, watching her.

He’d waved nonchalantly at her, and Rey found herself waving back, because she was so shocked and hadn’t really had time to process it. Only later did she realize how inappropriate it was. She hadn’t brought it up to Poe, because she didn’t want to cause any tension, and the job was almost done anyway. Besides, Poe would probably tell her he was overreacting. And maybe she was- she’d felt so on edge about everything lately.

But after that she’d decided to stop doing yoga at the house, just to be safe, and she’d bought a month’s worth of classes at a studio in downtown Jakku. Kin of stupid, to pay for a yoga room in your house, and then pay every day to go to a different one. But it was just temporary, and Rey managed to turn the hour yoga class into several hours, reading at coffee shops, going to art galleries, and eating at cafes. They would be done soon, with the house, and then she would have her solitude back.

One of the last days before they were scheduled to finish, Rey got back early, before 5, and the guys were still at the house. She’d waved at them, and then headed into the kitchen to begin dinner for Poe. She had a bit of a time consuming meal planned, and it was a pain, feeling like she couldn’t start it until the guys were gone. Their schedules could be unpredictable, and Rey hated waiting around for them to leave.

So she’d begun pulling out the vegetables from the fridge- she was making a roasted chicken and needed to put it in the oven as soon as possible. She was cutting up some carrots when Kylo came in the room.

Rey didn’t look up when he’d walked in- she’d just heard his footsteps. She felt now like she could feel his energy- she wasn’t sure how, she just knew that it seemed to alter the energy of the room, almost to suck it up. The other men tended to be respectful and circumspect, but Kylo was always trying to talk to her.

So she ignored him, pretending to be absorbed in her task, hoping he would leave.

She felt a sliver of unease in her- were the other guys still here? She didn’t want to be… well, she didn’t feel comfortable being alone with him. She was probably paranoid, like Poe always said, but something about Kylo made her feel uneasy. Well, all the men working at the house made her feel uneasy. Actually, everything made her uneasy. It had become a major source of tension with Poe- he kept encouraging her to see a psychologist, he thought she had some kind of anxiety disorder. But Rey didn’t think it was something psychological, although maybe it was- she was certain she would feel better when the men weren’t working at the house any more.

But Kylo didn’t take the hint. “Hey,” he said.

His voice was so deep. Rey had noticed it since the first time he spoke to her. Much deeper than Poe’s, which she supposed was appropriate, because he was so tall. Rey was slightly above average in height for a female, although not especially tall. But she was very close in height to Poe- in fact, in heels, she was a bit taller than him. 

She wasn’t used to being around a guy that just towered over her. Nor a guy with such huge muscles, which just added to the physical intimidation factor. Maybe that was what one of the reasons she always felt so nervous around him.

“Hey,” she said back, offering him a tight smile, then looking back down at her carrots. She was almost done with them, and then she’d have to do the potatoes next.

Kylo cleared his throat, and Rey felt a twinge of annoyance. He wasn’t leaving, apparently. 

“I wanted to ask you about your- uh- your paintings.”

Rey froze her chopping, glancing up to look at Kylo.

“My paintings?” She wondered what kind of interest he could possibly have in her art. No offense, but he was a construction worker. Poe was a lawyer and even he could hardly pretend to care most of the time.

Kylo nodded, his dark eyes fixed on hers. “You paint the land around here, right?” 

Rey’s eyebrow quirked up. How did he know what she painted?

“That’s right,” she said. She felt the need to be circumspect, to throw him off her scent. She didn’t know why. “And some other things.”

There were no other things she painted- not lately, at least. She felt an almost obsessive need to document the landscape around them, the changing of the seasons, the way their house sat in the middle of this perfect and refined land.

But she didn’t want him to know that. Didn’t want him to know anything about her, for some reason.

She picked back up her knife, slicing it down into the carrots. She prided herself on what a good cook she was, and the neat way she diced her food. She liked to make the carrot slices thick but even, still enough to be toothy but small enough to fit neatly on your fork, perhaps with a bite of chicken. 

But her slicing was off, and had been since Kylo had entered the kitchen. She was cutting off little slivers of carrot, thin and insubstantial, alternated with overly large pieces. 

Why was she messing everything up lately? It was so frustrating. She knew it was Kylo’s presence that was making her nervous, this time, and she wished he would leave.

Even though he wasn’t doing anything, really. Maybe Poe was right. Maybe she should see a psychiatrist, get a dosage of Xanax, or something. No one should be this thrown off by a simple conversation.

“Well, could I see some of them?” Kylo asked.

Rey smiled tightly, keeping her eyes glued down to the carrots. She was slicing through the last piece, and she looked up briefly at Kylo as she reached for a potato.

“I don’t really share my art with anyone, except potential clients,” she said. She gave a kind of apologetic shrug. “Sorry.” 

It wasn’t true, and she showed friends regularly, anyone who showed the slightest bit of interest. She was always hoping to make sales, because she knew that, as the years passed, and she never turned into the “renowned or hip artist” that Poe had seen her as when he’d married her, that his view of her art dimmed. He had been such an instant success, how could he understand what it was like to trudge away at something, and not break through?

“I, uh, I’d like to buy one, I think.”

Rey froze, her knife suspended over the potato she’d been about to slice into. Was he serious? 

“I- you want to buy one?”

Now she looked up, taking him in. He nodded.

“Um, well...” She didn’t want to insult him by saying how expensive they were. Was there a polite way to say it? Probably not. It already felt like there was this huge gulf between them- her being the spoiled housewife, he the lowly employee.

The best thing to do would be to show him the paintings, and only mention the price when he asked. She couldn’t tell him “you can’t afford it”- that would be horrible.

“Okay,” she said, putting down her knife and wiping her hands on a dishrag. “Yeah- I can show you.”

She realized then that she would have to show Kylo into her bedroom, where she kept her art. Right now it was piled into a closet, waiting to be moved into the new studio. This was the original master closet, and while it was large, their newly constructed walk-in-closet was going to be much bigger, and much better. 

But it worked well to store her paintings in the meantime.

“Are they… are they waiting for you?” she asked. She paused, waiting to hear the answer. She didn’t want to think that she was alone with him, this strange man. If his coworkers were waiting, then that would make her feel safer.

“Oh yeah,” Kylo nodded. “They’re outside.” He smiled reassuringly, his mouth ticking up at the edge.

“Okay. Well, um- follow me.”

Rey walked through the hallway, to the stairs, walking up them. She was aware of Kylo following behind her, and she self conciously wondered if he was staring at her ass. She was still wearing her yoga outfit that she’d worn to class that day. Usually she’d change, when she got back, since she didn’t like to wear tight leggings when the guys were around, but she had just gotten home and they were supposed to leave soon. 

It didn’t matter, Rey told herself. Once again, she was overthinking things, sending herself into a tizzy.

They reached the landing and Rey headed to the bedroom, hitting the light switch as she walked in.

The soft pink of the bedroom was illuminated, and Rey felt embarassed, seeing it with Kylo. She’d wanted it to be a sweet, romantic space, and it was. When she’d told Poe the design scheme she’d had in mind, he hadn’t been mad about it being pink, a “girl color”, because, as he said, “no one’s gonna see it but the two of us.” But now Kylo was here, seeing it. She knew the guys were working in here, mainly redesigning the master bath as well as adding the walk-in. So they’d walked past their pink bed, with the puffy, silk comforter, a million times. 

But it felt weird, being in such an intimate space, with a strange man. 

“Here they are,” Rey said, opening the closet door.

She pulled out the paintings, arranging them against the wall, propping them up one by one until most of the room was bordered by them.

Kylo was looking at them, appraising them. His eyes bore into the paintings, almost like he was searching for something, moving over them darkly.

It actually made Rey look away, the intensity of his gaze. Art was so personal, and Rey almost felt like she was spying on him, as if were doing something intimate. Like she’d walked in on him masturbating, or something. It was strange, and Rey knew they were her paintings, so there was so need for her to feel like an interloper. But she did, and she stared down at the ground while he went around, squatting down in front of each, examining it.

Finally he looked back up at her, and Rey met his gaze. 

“Which one were you painting that first day?”

Rey was confused for a moment, trying to think what he meant. The first day of what?

And then it came to her- the first day she’d been out on the balcony?

“You mean… when I was painting out there while you guys were working?”

Kylo nodded, his eyes fixed on hers.

“I-” Rey paused, trying to remember which one it was. Her paintings had all been of the grounds around them, so they were all somewhat similar, in subject matter, at least. And the timelines tended to blur together- the paintings stood out to her, but piecing together when she’d painted this one or that one was harder. 

She bent over, searching each of the paintings.

“That one,” she said at last, pointing. She remembered from the orange she’d threaded into the clouds, which she’d had to mix three times before it came out the right shade of burnt gold.

Kylo moved over, looking at it. “I love that one,” he said. “How much?”

Rey stared at him. He was looking at the painting with a look of joy, like he just loved it. In fact, she didn’t think she’d ever seen any of her clients, which were, again, mostly friends or business associates of Poe who were trying to get on his good side, look so enchanted by her art.

He was holding the painting in his giant hands, leaning back, his eyes sweeping over it. He finally looked up at her, like he was waiting for her to answer.

And, before Rey had time to really think about it, she answered, shaving more than half off the price. “It’s um… $300.”

She didn’t really know why she’d done it, after the words came out. Maybe it was because she’d never felt more flattered, never really seen anyone appreciate her art that way before. And she also felt bad for him, because he was so earnest, and so excited, and she didn’t want to tell him that it was $800, and way out of his price range.

$300 was probably more steep than he could afford anyway, Rey thought. He was a construction guy, and surely they didn’t have $300 to toss away on amateur art.

“I’ll take it,” Kylo said.

He stood up, holding the painting with him. “Do you take cash?”

Rey found herself floundering for words for a moment. She hadn’t expected him to say yes, and she didn’t really have a policy for it. Everyone else had written her a check or Venmoed her.

“I- sure, that’s fine.”

Kylo bent down, placing the painting carefully at his feet, so that it rested against his legs. Rey thought it was kind of comical- it was almost like he didn’t want to put the painting back, because he thought she might take it back. 

Then he’d pulled out his wallet, and counted out three $100 bills. They were all fresh and smooth, and Rey wondered how much money he carried with him regularly. His wallet was a kind of battered looking brown leather- hardly the kind you’d expect to be carrying a bunch of $100 bills.

She took the money, feeling awkward. She wondered if she should give it to him for free, since she didn’t need the money that much, and surely he needed it more, since he was working for hourly wages.

But that would be insulting, she thought. And clearly, he had the money on him, and it was his choice to spend it.

Kylo bent over, picking the painting back up, propping it against his hip 

“I, um- do you think I could maybe...” He looked nervous now, running his other hand through his hair. “Have your number, so that I can find out about any more paintings?”

The request hung in the air between them. Rey felt suddenly acutely aware of the fact that they were alone in the room together, feet away from her silk covered bed. The bed she shared with her husband.

It wouldn’t be appropriate, she thought. And suddenly she felt as wary as she had of him before. Something in his eyes when he’d looked at her paintings had clouded her judgement, made her forget the unease she felt when she saw him. Actually, the unease she felt constantly. She wondered again about getting that Xanax prescription.

“I- I don’t really give my number out,” she said. She kept her voice firm, but offered an apologetic smile. “Should we head back down?”

“Oh. Of course,” Kylo said. He smiled at her, his mouth quirking up at the side as it always did when he smiled. But his smile never really reached his eyes, and it certainly didn’t this time, and Rey wondered if he was offended.

Not your problem, Rey reminded herself. It was what her yoga teacher would say.

As they walked down the stairs, Rey wondered if she’d been too harsh. Maybe he had some secret money on the side, and that’s why he’d had so many $100 bills, and been able to pay cash. Maybe he would have been a big customer. And he would have bought a million pieces, and Poe would have been impressed, and noticed how many paintings were now missing from the closet.

And she’d loved the way he’d looked when he’d been looking over her work- like he’d been really moved by it. And that’s what she wanted her art to do, to touch people. Not just to be hung on guest bathroom walls by Poe’s lawyer colleagues, seen twice a year by people who never really understood it in the first place.

“Do you have an instagram or something, where I can follow your art?” Kylo had asked.

Rey debated. Instagram was safer than giving out a phone number, right? Something about a phone number was so intimate, and you were opening a line of communication. Instagrams were public, shown to a large group of people. Hers was set on private, actually, but the point remained- it was a deliberate broadcast you were choosing to send out.

“Um, I have an Instagram, and I post my art on it from time to time. Also some personal stuff.”

Rey wondered if she should post more art on it, as advertising. She knew plenty of artists who did that, and they probably made lots of clients that way. Actually, she remembered one of her art school friends encouraging her to make an art instagram page a few months ago. Rey had brushed it off, but maybe she’d been right.

“What’s your Instagram name?” Kylo asked, following behind down the hall.

Rey hesitated, and then answered. What was the worst that could happen?

“It’s my name, and then the number 33, my lucky number.”

“Poe’s last name?” Kylo asked.

Rey was confused for a moment, and then she realized he was clarifying if she was using her maiden name or married last name. 

“Um, yeah.” 

They’d reached the front door now, and Rey looked through the glass. The workers were standing around, chatting, sitting on the end of the pickup truck. They were all laughing about something.

“Okay, great,” Kylo said. He stared down at her, his eyes sweeping over her form once, then back to her face. “Thanks for the painting,” he said, lifting it up slightly.

“Thanks for buying it,” Rey said. She held the door open for him, and he walked through. “Bye! Take care!”

Kylo raised his free hand to wave at her, and she nodded, shutting the door behind him.

She locked it, and then walked back down the hallway. But instead of going to the kitchen, she stood in the shadowy part of the hall, where the afternoon light didn’t reach, and watched as the men all looked at the painting, clapping Kylo on the back. And then she waited until she saw their trucks leave, the tires kicking up dust that churned up into the dimming light.


End file.
